Poetry from Brianna Dawn.


i don’t like hotel beds.
how many people
thought ill will against others
before falling asleep
how many fell into a restless sleep
pressing their nightmares into
the dust of the cushions and mattresses
how many people fucked someone
else, thinking it would be more than
what it was worth, but turned
out less than expected
how many rolled over,
spent nights grinding their teeth
while sweating into the sheets
how many put their feet on pillows
later for someone else to throw
their drool all over them
how many people were made
to feel worth more than a thousand
gems, how many were made to feel
less than the dirt caked up on
the edges of scuffed up jean hems
how many spilled taco crumbs and
pizza sauce all over the mattress
soaking in, with all of the
other things people let out from
their minds or bodies within
the night – how many
never slept at all, contemplating
the universe, how many slept
soundly, after cursing against
those they love, letting their
bitterness seep into the bed
carpet and mirrors, and that ceiling –
how many stared at it, counting the
stars or sheep or were startled awake
by the engines of cars

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